<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>We Only Love Each Other at Parties by honorarytenenbaum</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003682">We Only Love Each Other at Parties</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/honorarytenenbaum/pseuds/honorarytenenbaum'>honorarytenenbaum</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Free Guy, New Zealand Actor RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Free Guy - Freeform, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, emotionally constipated tech bros, free guy ain't out yet but idgaf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:40:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/honorarytenenbaum/pseuds/honorarytenenbaum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Antoine and Prudence are two big names in Silicon Valley. He’s a big shot game publisher, while she’s a plucky head programmer for a tech NGO. Best friends, ex-friends ’till the end—frankly better as lovers. Too bad none of them have the emotional quotient to realize it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Antoine (Free Guy)/FemaleOC, Taika Waititi/Original Character(s), Taika Waititi/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 100 Gecs — "ringtone (remix)"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Antoine and I only love each other at parties.</p><p>The tech industry is a clusterfuck of innovation mixed with capitalist intentions. For years, Antoine and I survived that monster. We grew our careers together and apart. A shared fondness that morphed into contempt. </p><p>Just like any tech whiz, Palo Alto became the pinpoint of our origin stories. We were batchmates that stumbled upon another around campus halls. He was an insatiable gamer with unearned bravado and a knack for coding. As for me, I just want to meet innovative science and saving humanity halfway. </p><p>Ambitious is one word to describe us. So when placed in a project, we were unstoppable—a dream team. </p><p>Dean’s list never saw our names apart from the top spots. With his charisma and my tenacity, we won hackathons with ease. There was no doubt he is a skilled coder. So am I. If one erases our history, I would still say we are a dream team.</p><p>It’s so disappointing how hubris can break the strongest of hearts.</p><p>When our campus days were gone, our dynamic ended. I vowed to never work with him again. We never spent a day, a week or anytime with one another since. However, I’d like to believe our respect for each other remained. </p><p>Our respective careers in tech are bigger than whatever hackathon mentors dreamt for us. In the golden age of digitalization, the industry told us: “There’s nowhere to go but up.” That’s why I can’t escape him no matter how much I tried. </p><p>We roam the same circles, despite the varying sectors we work on. We have the same colleagues and the same investors to impress. For the rest of our nine-to-five, we avoid each other as much as we can. </p><p>But as long as colleagues’ launch parties exist, so did the string of fate that ties us together, laced with booze, fake happiness and other drugs. </p><p>
  <em>c u when u get here ;) </em>
</p><p>Nursing a drink by the open bar, I briefly glanced at the text notification. I rolled my eyes and placed my phone away out of habit. I downed my craft beer, repeating the word “no” in my head. </p><p>On cue, Antoine sent more texts with every “no” I uttered in my head.</p><p>“Ugh, I swear to God,” I muttered as I grabbed my phone. Glancing at the screen, he sent a variety of texts, ranging from “i kno u r here” and a bunch of eggplant squirt emojis. As I cleared the numerous notifications, I silently mourned for the young coder I used to depend my life on. </p><p>Antoine might’ve turned to the game publisher he always wanted to be. But like what I answer to friends and colleagues who ask me if his name rings a bell, I don’t know him and I’d like to keep it that way.</p><p>“Y’know, I’d just want to buy you a drink.”</p><p> The smug voice beckoned me. One day, I’d like to not know whose voice it belonged to. Despite all the hate and scoff in my heart, I’d know that insufferable tone anywhere. </p><p>“It’s an open bar,” I plastered on a fake smile before facing Antoine. “Everything is free.” He greeted my disdain with a shit-eating grin. </p><p>Taking a good look at the man I dedicated my college life to, he never fails to impress me with his latest fashion sense. Gone were the days of his numerous open plaids and band shirts. I’d describe it as a middle-aged e-boy. Somehow, despite universal fashion laws, it suited him.</p><p>“How ‘bout you? Do you come free with an open bar purchase?”</p><p>His flirtatious line drizzled with casual misogyny irked me. I knew there was a chance he might’ve turned into a tech bro out of college. Yet, I held onto hope that he wouldn’t. He had an unearned bravado even before he reached success. But people didn’t know Antoine like I did.  </p><p>Back then, I thought it made me special. Maturity made me realize this was simply Stockholm syndrome. </p><p>“Just spit it out,” I grumbled as I took another swig of my beer. Crossing my arms, I asked him a question I already knew the answer to. “What do you want?” </p><p>He smirked and moved an inch closer. Parting the hair on my face, he took a good look at me from top to bottom. His earthy brown gaze barely left my cleavage. I can thank my blue monochrome two-piece suit for that. </p><p>Our faces were almost too close for comfort. When we ever find ourselves in this position, I wonder if he mentally punches himself for craving wanton kisses like I did. “Still cute,” he mumbled. “Still feisty as ever.” </p><p>How can a string of words infantilize someone, yet turn them on at the same beat?</p><p>“I’m not asking again.” </p><p>“Why ask something I already know the answer to?”</p><p>I bit my lips while I nodded in response. Placing my barely empty bottle of Guinness, I clicked my heels and began to walk away. I wanted my self-control to be champion that night. </p><p>“We’re done here then,” I gave him a lazy wave goodbye as I took my leave. Melding myself with the sea of tech wizards, publishers, and partygoers of a launch party I barely knew the name of, I heard him made a final attempt. Triumphant certainty remained in his voice. </p><p>“See you in a while, Prudence!” he exclaimed. “I know you’ll be there.”</p><p>I never turned around. For the rest of the night, I entertained what the night has to offer instead of him. I went through my party to-do list; catch up with friends old and new (if they’re around), do some harmless flirting with possible investors, and danced to any beat the DJ offered. </p><p>Music always helped me drowned any anxieties, any thoughts I wanted buried. I left my heart and worries on the dancefloor. So out of all the tracks in the setlist, why did I want to trade the music over his voice? With every move of my body, the sound of my name escaping his lips echoed over and over and over again. </p><p>
  <em>But I still hear it, I hear the sound of your ringtone<br/>It's a crime, why can't I get you outta my mind?</em>
</p><p>When there’s nothing left to do on my self-imposed to-do list, I found myself sulking back to the open bar. Thoughts that washed over me came and went; overbearing deadlines, the impending launch of my latest startup, and my unsatisfactory social life. Alcohol wasn’t aiding me the way I thought it will. That, and juuling myself to death isn’t a fun way to go. </p><p>So among the other thoughts that came and went, I thought long and hard about his offer for the price of my self-control.</p><p>“Excuse me,” I prepared myself to bite the bullet, “where’s the restroom in this place again?” </p><p>Pushing the all-gender restroom door revealed nobody else but the man who’s expecting me. Once I entered, Antoine opened his mouth to begin complaining my ear off. Taking my blazer off to reveal only my see-through black lingerie was enough to shut him up. I threw it in his direction, catching it with his reflexes.</p><p>“Let’s just get this over with,” I began charging towards his direction. What’s left of his nerdy college virgin eagerness became apparent when quickly throwing my blazer on the floor. Trying to give me a warm welcome, he took me in his arms but I swatted them away. I pulled him by the arm to the nearest vacant stall and didn’t give him a second glance. </p><p>Once the locked turned to occupied, I pushed him by the door and took his stupid long jean jacket off. His long gray and black shirt followed along with my black lingerie. Lacing my arms around his neck, we did what we came here for. We locked our eager, longing lips and exchanged warmth with our torsos pressed against each other. </p><p>The kisses exchanged was better than an audible “I miss you,” our lust-filled gasps felt better than complaining over our jobs, and the sting that came with biting our lower lips were preferable over sharing any overwhelming emotions. One night stands over lavish get-togethers shouldn’t be a love language. But when it came to ambitious, know-it-alls who pretend to hate each other, it can be the only language they’ll ever know. </p><p>Our clothes discarded on the tiled floor watched us go at our party routine. Antoine sat on the closed toilet bowl, burying his head on my bare chest riddled with salt and pepper curls. His sweatpants were below his ankles beside my discarded slacks and torn underwear. </p><p>With every pump and thrust of his fat cock inside of me, I dug my nails deeper and he savored every minute. He retaliated by leaving love bites trailing from my chest to my breast. Empty praises and sweet nothings echoed on the walls with our skins slapping against one another.</p><p>“Your cunt is made for my cock, babe,” he grunted. “Fuck fuck, it’s perfect. Why do you feel so perfect?” </p><p>Sweet moans that I failed to control escaped my quivering lips. Every time we do this, I began to believe he’s right. Every man I fall for never held a candle to him. They always seem to lack. Although I never knew what I’m searching for, I knew it lied with him. </p><p>Hearing myself gushed as my ass bounced on his cock, I found myself in immediate euphoria. This feeling we shared cannot be found on the bottom of a bottle or amongst our colleagues. Two great minds fucking each others brains out yet we can’t articulate the emotion we can only find with one another. </p><p>While we continue to struggle to articulate what’s between us, this is the only logical set up for us. Our skeletons in our closets are too overbearing. Our shared history was better left unspoken. </p><p>So unlike normal people who knew their hearts from day one, Antoine and I chose to only love each other at parties. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Jeff Buckley — "Lover, You Should've Come Over"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Antoine wanted to say something smooth. Instead, what came out of him was the truth.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Angst and smut, finally. I think I like this one. I like how it turned out. I hope everyone likes it too.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite popular belief, Antoine has no one but himself.</p><p>He alienated all his childhood friends with his affinity for STEM. In college, professors hated him for acting like a discount bin’s Tony Stark. His supposed peers found him annoying then and found him annoying now. The reasons differ, but the results are the same. </p><p>Antoine alone in the office after hours, by his lonesome in his lavish Palo Alto villa, and even in parties celebrating his success. </p><p>The game he published was another smash hit. Nintendo, at this point, felt threatened by the rookie company he had built. It wasn’t built by playing nice in any way. </p><p>It was built by stepping on toes, amping up his ego, and being straight-up unlikeable. Capitalism rules and whatnot. But that’s how the industry goes—you’re either a ruthless mogul or an eventual failure. </p><p>Antoine’s new game debuted in E3. Contrary to his professors’ scorn, he was the publishing world’s ideal Tony Stark type. He pushed aside the fact that Tony wasn’t a mechanic and he was far from a war arms dealer. As he always did, he rolled his eyes internally, giving his constituents a devious wink and a flirtatious smile. </p><p>However, at this party he threw millions on, he couldn’t give a smug smile even if he tried. Antoine was the center of attention for five minutes. When the press got what they wanted, they left him alone. People swooned over him yet they were utter bores. Of course, his staff feared him. No genuine affection comes out of fear. </p><p>“Keep ’em comin’,” he grumbled to the bartender. His only sigh of relief was to make the launch party an open bar. The party was in full swing. So far, he had downed four whiskey neats. </p><p>No stimulating conversations came his way nor any company he genuinely liked. Folks said their slurred congratulations, but they barely stayed around. He didn’t mind them leaving early. He never liked them anyway.</p><p>The truth was the only time he wasn’t lonely was with Prudence. </p><p>He was arguably at the peak of his career. This was everything he wanted. And yet, he’d trade Prudence smile for his entire stocks if the opportunity comes along. </p><p>He’d never say it out loud to the press, to her face, and himself. But it’s all true. The only thing stopping him was his clinical narcissism. </p><p>Nights like these he wished Prudence was around. But like every bridge of human connection he built, he eventually burned what they had too. No pull quotes from Variety or Wired would indicate he has any regrets. That’s all smoke and mirrors, plus a good PR team to back him up. </p><p>Taking a sip out of his glass, he pulled out his phone. He sent her an invite as a sign of good faith and to show off in hopes of getting some celebratory fuck. To his dismay, she never RSVP’d. She only gave him a soft maybe. </p><p>“where r u :(“ he typed then deleted. He thought it was short, yet too desperate. Grumbling to himself, he typed a new response. “u comin?” he seemed pleased at first, but then again, the air of desperation was undeniable. </p><p>Antoine stared at the blinker on his phone. Gnawing at his bottom lip, he simply typed the truth for the first time in a long time. “i miss u. pls come.” </p><p>His thumb trembled over the send button. As his finger was inches away from sending his poignant text, a burst of familiar laughter greeted his ears. He looked up to confirm who it was. </p><p>It’s the glow she gets from any form of joy that never fails to draw Antoine to her. When they were younger, he was proud enough to say he was the reason behind her laughter, her fits of giggles, and her smiles. Nowadays, he just drives pass Prudence’s billboard on his way to work. </p><p>Time escaped him as he stared at her. His eyes lingered more than he would’ve liked. Sooner or later, her eyes met his. She gave him genuine smile in return. Raising her champagne flute to acknowledge his success, she gave her silent yet genuine congratulations. </p><p>He raised his whiskey glass as a response, sending a wink on her way. As their dynamic went, she rolled her eyes and merely chuckled at this sign of false bravado. He quietly chuckled to himself and drank. </p><p>The only one who can ever call him out and succeed was her. And for that, Antoine fell for her deeper and deeper. </p><p>He stared down at his seemingly empty glass. Swirling the melting ice around, he wondered how to approach her, the possibilities of getting her alone without alienating her. He can’t change the past, but he can try something—anything.</p><p>A hopeful swoon escaped his lips. Breaking himself away from his self-inflicted trance, he turned to the bar to nurse a new glass. “You know the dri—“ </p><p>“I got it,” a familiar voice cut him off. Turning to the figure next to him, a soft smile crept on his face. “It’s an open bar, y’know?” he quoted their familiar conversation. “Everything is free.” </p><p>“Hey loser,” she gave a small chuckle to her favorite pet name. Straightening his posture, he leaned forward and parted the stray hair away from her face. “Would a loser be an E3 rockstar?” </p><p> “According to our collective high school bullies—“ she grabbed her champagne flute to hit my newly refilled whiskey glass. “—it’s a yes,” she said with a shrug, downing her flute. I snapped my fingers and motioned to the bartender to give her a refill. </p><p>“Still, I must say…” she trailed off. He quirked his brow, while he takes a sip of his drink, wondering what’s on her mind. All this time while she chewed on her bottom lip, he fixated on how her lips would feel against his, to take nibbles on those lips himself. </p><p>Licking his lips subconsciously, he almost missed the part where Prudence swallowed her disdain for him. “…congratulations,” she rolled her eyes again with a small smile. A force of habit that she couldn’t seem to shake off. With a smug grin, he went closer to her. </p><p>“Now, was that so hard?” he smirked. Her smile disappeared and went back to its default bitch face. “Don’t make me take it back, Antoine.” </p><p>He gave her a genuine smile, “Okay, Prudence.” </p><p>If he didn’t know better, he just saw her cheeks flush after he called her by her name. She can put a facade of discontent around him all she wanted. But he knew, he just knew, her heart still beats for him. </p><p>Antoine’s heart beats for her too. Then again, it’s barely audible nowadays. </p><p>Shaking off her moment of weakness, she cleared her throat and decided to stir them back in the direction she wanted. “I thought you’d be getting down by now,” she avoided his gaze and pointed out the drunken crowd dancing in front of him. “Your party’s in full swing.” </p><p>His gaze never left hers. So to her surprise, she turned her head to a fully attentive Antoine. “Dunno,” he shrugged as he sported a sly grin. “As far as I’m concerned, the party started when you walked in.” </p><p>“Are you trying to pick me up with a Ke$ha song?”</p><p> “Isn’t it working?” </p><p>She broke into fits of giggles infecting him as well. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she looked at him once more. This brief moment felt like the old days. It was just him and her. Moments like these she wished silently that he never broke her heart. </p><p>On cue, Antoine began to lay it thick. “Let’s call it a truce for the night? Hmm?” He leaned and whispered into her ear. His sultry tone sent shivers down her spine. Keeping a smug grin to himself, he observed the goosebumps running down her arm. </p><p>“Can’t you get someone else to be your congratulatory fuck?” Prudence acted cold as a form of retaliation. Tutting in her ear, he laced his free arm on her hips. “But I wanted it to be you, babe.” </p><p>He nibbled on her ear, ignoring the prying eyes watching them. She let out a stifled swoon. Pursing her lips, she was torn between breaking his heart for a change and giving in to feel his skin against hers for one night. </p><p>“Be mine tonight,” his tone went lower. Kissing her from earlobe trailing down to her neck, he savored the sound of her stifling breath. The heat from her cheeks became more adamant. His grip on her waists grew tighter, pulling her in front of him, feeling up her backside with his growing hard-on. </p><p>His other arm laced around her hips, pulling her closer, swaying her to the music. “People are watching, Toine,” she mumbled, struggling to hide her arousal. “Then say yes,” he whispered keeping their conversation to themselves and them alone. </p><p>Avoiding her further humiliation, she took his hand and let herself be whisked away to a secluded club VIP room that Antoine rented for tonight’s launch. Their each other’s best kept secrets. Still, they kept the door open. They’ll both be lying if the thought of getting caught didn’t turn them on. </p><p>They savored one another under the room’s dim lights. Not even making it to the couch, Prudence found herself pressed against the wall with Antoine’s touch-starved body keeping her there. The moans that escaped her mouth were so sinful. For Antoine, the best part was his touch was the cause of it. </p><p>Resting her head on his shoulder, her moans filled his ears while he traced the curvatures of her hips. Her one leg wrapped his waist was the only thing left keeping her at bay. She swore she could melt just by feeling his fingers trailing down to lift her fitted black dress. </p><p>“Tsk, tsk, what do we have here?” he cooed as he played with the hem of her underwear. “Is that wet pussy all for me?” </p><p>Antoine’s mocking tone often infuriates her. In this context, it only made her cunt ache for him more than it already was. “Happy game launch, babe,” she moaned in his ear, stroking his ego. It was a little incentive for him to get a little rougher. </p><p>To her surprise, it worked too well. </p><p>Her teasing led him to have her underwear ripped off of her. Letting out a soft gasp, he dismissed her worries. “I’d buy you new ones, sexier ones,” he growled. Unbuckling his belt with one free hand, he dropped his trousers and let his cock sprung out, entering her folds without any warning. </p><p>“Fuck!” she exclaimed as he entered her. Gripping onto her thighs, he pumped in and out of her, using her as his personal fleshlight. She quickly removed the straps of her dress to let her breasts bounce for both of them to see. </p><p>It delighted her more to see them bouncing up and down for him. Knowing this fully well, Antoine growled and started sucking and biting them. Her moans grew louder and louder. None of them cared who hears. This instant euphoric state their in was all that mattered. </p><p>He carried her off to the nearby couch. Leaning back to enjoy the show, he propped his elbows and let her ass bounce off his cock. Nothing much has changed. She’s still wet for him, so so tight for him. </p><p>Prudence was and always will be an uptight individual. A classic Type A personality that any aspiring cringy girlboss would envy. But with Antoine around, she let herself roam free. She let herself be pleasured. To be desired and be unhinged. </p><p>Antoine was so hypnotized by the bounce of her breasts. The way she glowed when she laughed was beautiful, but her coital glow was something else. He admired her slacked-jaw and all horny for him. </p><p>Wanting to prove to himself that this moment between them was real, he stroked her lips with her thumb, slowly pushing it in for her to suck. “I love it when you’re cock dumb for me,” he admired her. “You just feel so fucking good,” swooning before he panted at the sensation of her cunt growing tighter on his cock. </p><p>He let the sensation of lust and the smell of their sweat in the air reel him in. Wanting more out of her, he groped her ass, bouncing it to hit her G-spot harder. Antoine wanted nothing else but to see her cumming and squirting all over his cock. </p><p>All he wanted was Prudence drenched, ashamed, but satisfied. He wanted nothing more but to satisfy her tonight. </p><p>As their pace grew faster, she found herself moaning his name, treating it like a mantra. He showered her with phrases while he guided her ass to take in his length. “That’s a good girl. Take in my cock. It’s all for you, babe.” </p><p>With one slap to her ass cheek, he made Prudence let out the loudest, throatiest moan. “Oh no, fuck! Fuck,” she exclaimed as he felt her wetness streaming down her cock. His grip on her cheeks became tighter, bouncing it up and down. </p><p>The sound of her wet cunt slapping on his lap bounced off the walls. Overstimulated and still needy, she let him use her. Right there and then, she realized how hungry she was for his touch, how much she really wanted this in the first place. </p><p>“I’m close,” he let her know. “Fuck, where d’ya want it?” </p><p>She didn’t answer. She was too hypnotized by the pleasure, too in love with the feeling of his length hitting him right. Leaning down inches away from his face, she pulled him into a deep kiss. That one action let Antoine spray his cum against her walls. </p><p>The mixture of their cum oozed out of her dripping hole. Moving his hands up her hips, he held her close. Their lips were still intertwined even after the deed was done.  </p><p>He missed how she tasted, how she felt against him. Oftentimes, one quick fuck or desperate booty call was enough to satiate them. But Antoine wanted more. </p><p>“Prudence,” he moaned her name into her mouth. She parted her lips away from him to gasps for some air. Antoine wanted to say something smooth. Something about her pussy feels, something witty about her ripped underwear perhaps. </p><p>Staring down on her dripping cunt, he absentmindedly pushed his seed further inside of her, causing her to continue her sinful moans for him earlier. He placed his hand on her head and gently pushed it down to rest on his shoulder. She repeatedly moaned his name in his ear. </p><p>Antoine wanted to say something smooth. Instead, what came out of him was the truth. </p><p>“I love you.” </p><p>The euphoria between them left in an instant. Getting up for her position, she stared at Antoine with bewilderment mixed with confusion. She thought to herself: why say it now? </p><p>“Prud—“ </p><p>Before he can finish her name, she turned her back away from him and left. They were both back to the reality of their situation. And once again, Antoine was alone. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Cigarettes After Sex — Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I just wanted to go for something bigger. Guess Prudence wasn’t ready for that.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Angst and smut. A lotta feelings.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Sometimes, some partnerships just don't work."</p><p>The whole lobby of Prudence's office had his face on their flatscreens. In front of the whole world, Antoine tells the story of how he lost her. He puts on his bravado on display, smirking and smouldering, hiding his chagrin in front of everyone.</p><p>"We're still sorta friends. Still see each other at events, catch up and stuff. Plus, her gaming NGO’s doing quite well—” he leaned towards the interviewer. "—Not as good as my company though." With a wink, he felt he had everyone melting for him. He's half right.</p><p>The world was reminded why Antoine was the cover of WIRED’s anniversary issue that year; intelligent, witty, and undeniably charming, Prudence, however, was reminded yet again on why they'll never work.</p><p>Everyone melted for him, yet Prudence only felt disappointment looking at him.</p><p>With a sigh, her heels turned away from the screens. She waited for the elevator to take her away from all this. That day, all she wants to do is to bury herself with work. This day will go well if she won't feel anything but heart palpitations from their office coffee that day.</p><p>Her acumen in coding never translated well with emotions. Trying to understand them only frustrates her. Numbers and codes are fixed, a no-brainer to the ones who could decipher. Emotions were never like that.</p><p> </p><p>They were complex, unexpected. You can't tinker it to go your way. One just has to let it happen. She's never a fan of scenarios she had no control over.</p><p>Instead, Prudence hides feelings in a cardboard Pandora's box. It's tied with a tattered, faded red bow she had ever since she was younger. In her mind, she needs to always win. But one pull from that bow, and trust the stars, she will unravel to bits.</p><p>It's been weeks since that night she gave in to his whims. Or at least, that's what she kept telling herself. She came into that party with an agenda. Lucky for her, it didn't require any coercion from his side.</p><p>That's where they stood anyway. Antoine and Prudence, both unavailable yet touch-starved, feed each other with what they require the most. It didn't have to be the two of them. But in the end, it's always one or the other at the end of the line.</p><p>"I love you," Antoine's confession echoed in her head once more as she stood on the elevator going up to her office. It's been echoing for weeks. And it doesn’t stop.</p><p>The elevator doors chimed open. On her floor, she heard his voice booming from the flatscreens once again.</p><p>"I just wanted to go for something bigger. Guess Prudence wasn't ready for that," he answered the interviewer's question. "Some might say I was the bad guy for leaving her in the dust," he chuckled. "Ehh, maybe they're right. I was a little immature back then."</p><p>Then, there was silence. "But that didn't stop Zuckerberg or Jobs. I just wanted what they have," his ego made another appearance. "Are you comparing yourself to tech giants?" the interview ribbed. "I'm better looking though," he closed the banter with a wink.</p><p>When she got off the elevator, she felt the whole room staring at her then Antoine. She can see them all in her peripheral vision. Keeping her stoic expression on, she pulled the sunglasses resting on top of her head down and marched on.</p><p>See no evil, hear no evil.</p><p>Prudence shielded herself away from everyone, including him. Closing the glass door behind her, she dropped her bag on the floor and plopped herself on the couch, instead of her desk chair. She stared at the ceiling aimlessly looking for answers.</p><p>Out of all days, why would she be reminded of his mistakes?</p><p>She wonders if there’s a universe where they’ve never met. And in that universe, she wonders if she’s truly happy there. Will society progress better in that universe where they never cross paths? Maybe socialism reigns supreme in that dream universe of hers.</p><p>Maybe, just maybe in that dream universe, Antoine will just be another tech bro among the sea of tech bros she doesn’t give a shit about. He would be another boy—a stranger, not even an acquaintance.</p><p>Closing her eyes, she wished in silence to be in that universe.</p><p>“Thank you for taking the time to be here with us today, Antoine.”</p><p>The interviewer reached in for a hug, subtly placing his number on Antoine’s denim coat. “Well, you know my agent,” Antoine smirks.  He gave gaming’s current poster boy a wink before walking off set. And after a deep breath, Antoine did the same.</p><p>As he made his way to the green room, he buried his hands deep in his pocket. He felt the piece of paper the interviewer slipped from earlier. Reaching out to it, he inspected it up closed and scoffed to himself. What an old-fashioned way to hit on someone.</p><p>Then again, he thought to himself, who can blame them? People throw themselves at his way constantly after all. Trouble is, he never gets the person he wants. He has himself to blame for that.</p><p>Antoine tried to reach out to Prudence five times after that night.</p><p>Once the sixth time came around, he eventually gave up like he usually does. Five is concerned, six is desperate. He'd rather protect his self-fulfilled reputation than fix what he broke anyways.</p><p>Both of them knew he shouldn’t have said that. Regardless if it was the truth, it was better left unsaid. It was too early and they both have wounds from the last time they gave an earnest relationship a shot.</p><p>He holds onto the hope that the industry they chose had a small circle. They can only avoid each other for so long. It’s this magnetic yet fatal attraction between them they can’t seem to shake off. Well, it’s really him who couldn’t just leave her alone.</p><p>After his celebration, Antoine didn’t cross paths with her for a month. No matter how hard he tried.</p><p>“Okay, so we got Fallon later tonight and Colbert tomorrow,” his publicist echoed before he can even get in the room. He simply nodded and said nothing as he collapsed over the couch. Propping his long, sturdy legs covered in sweats, he continued to inspect the number given to him, thinking if he should give it a shot.</p><p>The interviewer was nothing special. Still, it’s better than jerking himself off to sleep and waking up alone again.</p><p>Once again, he tries to find Prudence in other people. To this day, he hasn't quite realized there's only one her. The puzzles he kept finding will never fit the image of her. He will fail—and it'll only break what's left of his heart.</p><p>His publicist droned on with what his schedule was for the rest of the week. Needless to say, he didn’t give two fucks. He did what he wanted anyway. If he’s there, he’s there. And if he’s not, then that’s not a “him” problem, it’s more of a “them” problem.</p><p>Besides, he has too preoccupied once again with the thought of her. To rehash what they been through on live television was a sore spot for them. Prudence will never believe him, but he regrets more than she does.</p><p>He’ll take that to his grave. Well, if he doesn’t do anything about it. </p><p>“We got invited to a party at Nintendo? You in?” his publicist chimed to get his attention. He listened in, but kept his gaze on the paper, still inspecting. “We started it together, y’know?” he murmured, starting a story out of thin air. He was greeted by a quizzical look he couldn’t even see. “This company… Prudence and I… we started it together.”</p><p>Once he looked up, his publicist gave his stalling an eye roll. “That’s before you fucked her over right?” she cocked her hip, placing her hand over it. She gave him a fake smile, while he grimaced and nodded.</p><p>His publicist walked toward where he sat. Placing her hand firmly on his shoulder, she reminded him, “That’s what we don’t tell on television, hmm?” She opened the door beside him and left him alone with his thoughts.</p><p>Antoine looked at the paper once again. Crumpling it with one hand, he threw it across the room and wallowed in silence.</p><p>“That wanna be tech bro douche really has some nerve huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Naia whispered into her ear. Sitting on her lap, Prudence giggled and shrugged. “What can I say?” she mumbled. “I never picked ‘em right.”</p><p>“Hmm, maybe you should’ve picked me instead.”<br/>“Love that idea, hate the fact that I’m bad at relationships.”</p><p>There’s nothing Naia can do but shrug and agree. It’s true, she never picked them right. Her acumen in the office was undeniable. But when it comes to matters of the heart, she makes bad decisions after another.</p><p>Antoine was her first, then the rest followed. That’s why she never tried too much after him. Whoever wants to give it a shot can. The door is always open for people to come in and walk away. As of late, it’s closed—except for Naia.</p><p>Unlike Antoine, she met Naia at a party. She was an exceptional developer, a smooth talker, and unhinged at bed. Naia ticks everything on Prudence’s list. But she’s a great friend. That’s where the problem lies.</p><p>She already lost a friend after her heartstrings were pulled. To do the same mistake twice seems like she likes the pain.</p><p>Out of all the parties, Prudence could be in right this second, she walks into the one Antoine was invited in. That’s not exactly kismet. It never was. But every time Antoine sees her around gatherings like this, he couldn’t help but think it was.</p><p>Too bad that for the rest of the night, Prudence decided to be untouchable.</p><p>She didn’t even know Antoine was around. As for him, he didn’t have the heart to text her so casually. He had a supersized ego to do a dick move that night. They both knew this. But he stopped himself in fear of losing her forever.</p><p>In his convoluted mind, breaking her heart once or twice is fine. To lose her for good would be plain unforgivable.</p><p>For the rest of the night, he watched her take the night while he wallowed at the corner. People congratulated him for his current press run with every turn he took. They stroke his ego as much as they could. And yet, he didn’t give two fucks. </p><p>He drank the night away and half-heartedly listened to anyone who tried to strike up a conversation with Silicon Valley’s current favorite. While he nodded and smile, his focus was on her having the time of her life, smiling for someone who wasn’t him.</p><p>The thought frustrated him. But then, he’s pulled back to reality when he remembers he was at fault. He did this to himself.</p><p>Prudence fell in love with the night. She played Mario Kart VR to her heart’s content no matter how bad she was at it, danced with anyone who wanted to dance with her, and exchanged spit and undisclosed desires with Naia at the seediest places. While in the distance, Antoine watched and drowned with no one to help.</p><p>“F-fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>Prudence mewled as Naia dug her curled fingers inside her. Wanting to keep her quiet, Naia crashed her lips onto hers. Their exchange was hungry, lustful. As Naia tugged her lower lip, a sinful moan escaped Prudence’s lips.</p><p>She can never escape restroom stalls at parties like these. Whether it’s with Antoine or someone else, she always found herself spending the height of a party here.</p><p>With every pump Naia made, she forgets everything. She felt Naia’s lips fall on the nape of her neck, trailing down to her breasts, tugging and teasing her nipples underneath the cloth of her pink satin dress.</p><p>Every touch Naia gave made her fall for Prudence harder. It’s always in moments like these where Prudence lets her in. Once she lets Naia in, she makes sure Prudence felt adored, worshipped—wanted.</p><p>Her cum dripped onto Naia’s fingers. Biting her bottom lip, she couldn’t help but let out moan after moan after moan. It was music to Naia’s ears. The sweetest melody she wouldn’t mind hearing again and again. Unfortunately, the music stopped when Prudence's lips let out a name.</p><p>“Antoine.”</p><p>Naia slowly pulled away from her. Stirring from her abrupt actions, she stared at Naia perplexed. It took her a few seconds to realize what happened.</p><p>“I’m so so sorr—“<br/>“It’s fine. It’s fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Without breaking eye contact, Naia licked her fingers dripping with Prudence’s fluids clean. She couldn’t help but blush when Naia does it. Trying to hide her flushed cheeks, she leans down on the floor to put her underwear on. Naia just observed her, more disappointed than she leads on.</p><p>“Nai—“</p><p>Prudence was stopped by the sensation of Naia’s hand caressing her cheek. Tracing her thumb over her favorite one-night stand’s lips, she let out a wistful sigh. “Maybe you’ll moan name someday,” she mutters to herself.</p><p>The weight on Prudence’s chest suddenly got heavier. Even when Naia said her goodbye by planting a soft kiss on her lips, the pang in her heart still echoed.</p><p>She was never good at relationships, especially if the person was right for her all along.</p><p>Just like that, Prudence fell out of love with the night. The party was still in full swing. But she had enough. She’s ready to go home.</p><p>The cool gust of wind greeted her once she walked away from the happy, smiling drunk people around her. She took a deep breath to alleviate the weight on her. Once the tears started rolling on her cheek, she knew it didn’t work.</p><p>Prudence has an unhealthy habit of bottling all her emotions in. She places them way, way down until her frail heart couldn’t take it anymore. Although the night was great before her slip up, it seemed this night was dedicated to purging all of it.</p><p>What can she say? She was tired. Not of work, but herself. She’s exhausted with keeping herself so closed off, no one can come in when she needed them. She’s tired of wondering where has the happy optimist in her college years had gone. She’s at her tipping point of all the pain and penury she always places herself in.</p><p>Most of all, she’s tired of Antoine. She’s tired of waiting and fucking and loving him despite everything.</p><p>Her mind echoed: everything is fucked, please help me. In between sobs, Prudence shouted this SOS, hoping a mind reader or anyone would save her.</p><p>“Hey,” a familiar voice approached her.</p><p>Antoine had no context of what led her to end the party with loneliness. Still, he knew what to do. He’d be truly heartless not to do this if he didn’t.</p><p>He pulled her closer to his arms. Knowing the scent wrapped around her, she didn’t fight it. This was another thing she was tired of. The fact that Antoine was the one who broke her and the one she always searched for.</p><p>As he kissed the top of her forehead, he rested her chin and just let her sob into his designer jacket. He didn’t care how it’ll be ruined after the night is through. Right now, he just wanted so desperately to fix things.</p><p>Of course, no sudden movements. He learned that the hard way a few months ago.</p><p>Antoine always thought it was kismet every time they met at parties. Usually, it really wasn’t. But tonight seemed different than the rest.</p><p>Eventually, Antoine booked them a Lyft to go to her place. He had no other agenda than to comfort her and get her home safe. They sat beside each other, watching the neon signs and street lamps pass by.</p><p>The radio hummed “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby.” In silence, Prudence rested her head on his shoulder. He attempted to reach for her hand. She let him and said nothing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. BADBADNOTGOOD — "Time Moves Slow"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"For one night, let's just forget it."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A lotta feelings. I just remember “Time Moves Slow” by BADBADNOTGOOD ft. Samuel T. Herring with this one. I love this series and IDGAF.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Antoine had no agenda except to keep Prudence safe for the night. </p><p>He took her home, kept silent unless spoken to, and catered to her every need once they got to her place. When she turned the keys to her front door, he entered a place he hadn’t been to. They don’t go to each other’s place when they sleep together. Quite frankly, they liked it that way. </p><p>It’s surprising how much they missed out on one another’s life. Prudence had no idea his father finally passed. As for Antoine, he had no clue about her extensive anxiety treatments. They knew about each other as much as the media does. </p><p>In Prudence’s mind, he’s the gaming world’s current wunderkind. Antoine only thinks highly of her and nothing less than that. </p><p>To see her alone and fragile that night killed him inside. </p><p>As far as he’d known her, she was resilient. The only time he saw her fall apart in real-time was when he took the company they built and ran away with it. Regret wasn’t a word he acknowledged. But if there’s any word to describe what he felt, it was definitely it. </p><p>He let Prudence settle down on her living room couch. One’s living space says a lot about a person. She was no different. At first glance, he noticed how everything’s where it should be. People who don’t know her well would assume the place’s pre-furnished, but he knew her well enough she had control over the abode’s interiors. </p><p>The hallway didn’t display any memories. Her memories were reserved for her mind alone. It was crisp, spacious, yet somehow lacking. She hasn’t changed much, he thought to himself. She’s still reserved and overall calculative. </p><p>It’s a house, but it’s not a home. </p><p>Coming in closer, he watched her throw her head back as she leaned on the head of her white couch, physically spent and emotionally exhausted. Awards garnered her mantle, the curved smart TV hung over her accolades as their thoughtless guardian, plastic plants stood for an illusion of nature and beside it was a liquor cabinet that’ll give Hemingway a run for his money. </p><p>He sat beside her with caution. Smart enough to know boundaries, he sat at the very end of the couch where her feet rested. They shared an unintentional synced glance. None of them whipped their head away in embarrassment. </p><p>His eyes were filled with concern, while her eyes pleaded for comfort. </p><p>She moved closer without hesitation. To his surprise, she curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He felt stiff but he didn’t want to spook her. It took him a moment to take it in. Eventually, he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers. </p><p>The feeling of longing hit them both at the same time. </p><p>“I’m so tired.”</p><p>Prudence spoke up out of nowhere. Kissing the top of her head, he acknowledged her fatigue. “I know,” he murmured. He second-guessed if he should pry. At this point, he figured he had nothing to lose. </p><p>“Wanna tell me what happened tonight?” He lifted his head to give her some space. She shook her head and chuckled. “You’d laugh at me. Too embarrassing,” she evaded the question. He found himself smiling at the sound of her feigned laughter.</p><p>If anyone would ask him why Prudence, he would say it’s her smile. </p><p>The sight of it wasn’t as rare as it was now. Back then, all they shared were smiles and laughter. When he gets frustrated over a project, she’ll be the first to stroke his ego and motivate him to keep going. She’s his hope in a person when he had none. </p><p>She never asked much of him. In essence, she only asked him to stay, to be there when she triumphed or fell from grace, to be there when she needed him. That’s all she asked. In the end, she found herself begging for him to do so. </p><p>Once Antoine left, he never saw her smile like she once did. Not even once. </p><p>He leaned in and whispered to her ear, “Try me.” The sound of his voice in a low register never failed to send shivers to her spine, even when she’s down and out. She hated how he knew too much about her. He can push her buttons easily, more than he’ll ever know. </p><p>Gnawing on her bottom lip, she let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine,” she grumbled. He sat up straight and so did she. Crossing her legs, she fiddled with her thumbs and kept her gaze on the floor. He propped his elbow on the couch’s arm, while his palm cradled his cheek. </p><p>“The girl that I was with tonight, right?”<br/> “Yeah.” </p><p>“I….” she hesitated. “So we were fooling around at the party from earlier—“ He interrupted her with a snort. “What the fuck? What are you from the ’50s?” he mocked her usage of an old-fashioned terminology. Turning her head to face him, she shot him a glare. He immediately sunk from his seat and mimed zipping his lips, throwing away the key for added effect. </p><p>“Anyways,” she rolled her eyes. “It was… great. Shit, umm, otherworldly.” Memories of Naia’s ability to turn her into putty made her swoon. However, it made Antoine’s gaze narrow, getting a little impatient on where she’s going with this. If he learned that he stuck his neck out for someone who had a bad one-night stand, he would be beyond livid. </p><p>Prudence kept her gaze low. Her breath hitches, hesitating to let out the words that were about to come out her mouth. “A-and… when I was about to y’know… umm.” Her fidgeting got worse. “Have your pussy blown?” he flatly pointed out. </p><p>Her fidgeting stopped. At that moment, her eyes became vacant.</p><p>“I... I moaned your name.” </p><p>In a normal situation, Antoine would feel smug about it. The fact that he’s someone’s best lay would send him over the moon. Is his dick that unforgettable? He’d be leaping for joy, threatening everyone at a bar nearby with free drinks and a good time.</p><p>But it wasn’t some meaningless person who did it. Out of all his one night stands, the one who couldn’t forget him no matter who they slept with, was none other than Prudence. And what was their situation if not burdened with complications?</p><p>“I just…” she stopped herself. Taking a deep breath, he watched her pushed through with the decade-long weight on her heart. “I’m so tired of this.” Her lips began to quiver as fresh tears rolled on her cheek. “I’m just tired of… not letting myself be happy, not letting anyone in, constant distrust, self-sabotage—I’m so fucking tired, Antoine.” </p><p>Words failed to come out of Antoine’s mouth for the first time. There wasn’t any need for context. Both of them knew who to blame. In silence, he witnessed her unravel. To hold her seemed presumptuous, yet to only bore witness felt apathetic. </p><p>It went against Antoine's principles. Still, it needed to come out sometime. There were some things beyond his control. One of them was his shame, the other was the pain of losing her for good.</p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>His apology was met with silence. Of course, he thought to himself. He didn't expect acceptance out of her. Just like him, she was hardheaded and filled with pride. </p><p>He watched her stare at the floor aimlessly. The apology he uttered didn’t stop tears from rolling, hitched between breaths. Gnawing at her bottom lip, she tapped her two fingers on her lap. She's speechless. What can you say after hearing the words you've been looking for for decades? </p><p>Finally, she looked up at his wry face. She exhaled, crossed her arms, and plastered on a smile for show. "Are you sorry you fucked us up or are you sorry I was hurt by it?" </p><p>He arched his neck upwards and set his gaze on her ceiling. The ceiling fan grew louder and louder, while the silence between them became deafening. He need not verbalize his answer. They both knew what it was. And it's the painful truth. </p><p>The painful truth was he would make the same mistakes again. Yes, he would break her all over again, he’d have to cut her off for a stock deal too hefty to refuse, he’d have to watch her career skyrocket from the side, he’d have to live with her scorn and spend life without her. All those mistakes in exchange for the success he craved and yearned for. </p><p>Prudence, as callous as it sounded, was a liability to his success. And he will never hesitate to remove a liability. They knew each other well enough to know this truth. </p><p>Nonetheless, their hearts ached just the same.</p><p>“I’m still sorry.” <br/> <br/> His apology was sincere, yet he knew it wasn’t enough. Apart of her wanted to say it’s okay. That the pain of his absence had never affected her, not even wounded her in any way. It didn’t ruin human connections. Her heart, as he knew it, was still the same. </p><p>But that would be lying. And she didn’t want to stoop into his level. </p><p>So instead, she reached out for his hand as he did earlier. He let her hold it without hesitation. Caressing the side of her hand with his thumb, he wanted to let her know how he missed her touch the most. She felt the same.</p><p>The stillness of the room felt comforting. Although one-night stands and 2 a.m. yearnings were fun, they didn’t compare to the mundanity of romantic normalcy. </p><p>“What now?” she murmured. Her tears have dried on her face, the voice who begged the question sounded weak. None of them knew where to go from here. But both knew what they wanted right that second. </p><p>It’s just in a matter of who’ll say it first. </p><p>“L…let's forget it happened," he came up with a proposal underneath his hesitance. "For one night, let's just forget it."</p><p>Prudence furrowed her brows, unsure of what he was trying to convey. “Tonight, I didn’t ruin us,” he took a deep breath before he continued. “I never left. We didn’t break anything.” </p><p>In an act of desperation for her to say yes, he tightened the grip on her hand. It was foolish to hope she’d agree. He didn’t jump with her when she was ready for him. Why would she offer him any kindness at this point?</p><p>She wanted to kick and scream, release all the pent-up penury and strife she held close for so long. But the offer was so tempting. She hated that the person who hurt her was the same person she sought out comfort from. </p><p>Allowing herself to breathe, she cleared her mind and made a decision.</p><p>"Okay." Her tone was frail, yet she felt certain. He looked at her with disbelief at first. Slowly, his eyes beamed like they did when they were inseparable. </p><p>A weak smile crept on her face. He echoed her sentiments, "Alright."</p><p>For tonight, he pulled her to his warm embrace. She rested her legs on her lap as a force of habit from way back. He cradled her head, pushing it gently to the nook of his neck. Caressing her hair gently, her eyes began to flutter shut. </p><p>They agreed to let their guard down for the night. As Prudence drowned into his warmth, Antoine wished for time to move slower. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>